Switch
by piecesofflair
Summary: They both thought they were the only one...and they both were wrong.
1. My Side of the Desk

Disclaimer: All Law and Order stuff is the property of Dick Wolf, so please don't sue. (But Lila Fulton is mine! Eat that NBC!)

A/N: I plan on alternating between Bobby's POV and Alex's between chapters, so you can get a glimpse into both of their heads. I'm gonna try to keep this light and not too angst-y.

Also, this is my first ever fanfic, so don't be too brutal when you review!

* * *

"I just don't get it, Detective Goren," Fulton said. "How do you catch so many of these guys? You pick up every little detail and automatically know what it means. It's like you were there, like you saw the whole thing." 

I looked up at the newbie detective and wondered why she was now sitting on my desk. It was only Lila Fulton's third day in the MCS and she had already made a pass at basically every detective under 60. I guess it was my turn now.

"Anyway, Bobby- it's alright if I call you Bobby, isn't it?- you wanna grab a drink with me after work? Me and some other detectives are going to that place O'Halloran's once we get out of here and I'd love it if you joined us." She gave me what I assume was a failed attempt at doe-eyes and smiled. Unfortunately for her, I was never one to fall for the overly flirtatious act.

"I can't. I, uh,…I told Deakins I'd stay late to…catch up on my paperwork," I told her lamely, ignoring the snort of poorly suppressed laughter from Alex. "Oh. Maybe another time then," Lila replied, giving me a look that said I was dreaming if I thought I would ever get another shot with her. Not that that was much of a loss, at least in my mind. She wasn't my type, anyway. She was too…fake, from her bright blonde highlights to her slightly orange tan. You see, I tend to go for a woman who is genuine. A woman who can hold her own. A woman who is fun but knows when to be serious. A woman that's about 5'4", blonde, funny, beautiful, and is sitting right across from me…

No. I have to stop thinking like that. She's my partner, for God's sakes. I'm not supposed to feel like this about her. I can't start down that road or I'll never be able to come back. I can't let myself have these thoughts about her. Besides, there's no way she feels the same way about me. She's small and beautiful, and I'm…big and gawky. Amazing women like her don't fall for screwed up guys like me. We sit on the sidelines and play the "best male friend" role. We're never the boyfriend. Just watch a romantic comedy, you'll see. The girl always wants the gorgeous, unattainable guy, not the boring boy-next-door.

But, hell, it can't hurt to dream…


	2. And in the Other Corner

See chap. 1 for disclaimer

A/N: Alright, here's chapter 2 from Alex's POV. I know these first two are really short, but they're mainly introductory chapters. I promise the story will be normal length starting in chap. 3 (back to Bobby).

* * *

As much as I hated to admit it, she wasn't bad looking. She was long and tan and had decent hair. She wasn't inherently offensive in any way.

But she was hitting on my partner. And that was definitely not okay.

Imagine my surprise when I looked up from my paperwork to see the newest addition to the squad sitting on my partner's desk and shamelessly flirting with him. I couldn't help but wonder what the hell she thought she was doing. She was making what I guess you'd call "googly eyes" at him and was doing everything short of suggesting they go to the bullpen and...well, you know.

To be totally honest with myself, I had no right to be jealous. He's just a friend. A very good friend, but still only a friend. As much as I might wish otherwise, we aren't dating and probably never will. Besides, there was no way he had any feelings for me; I'm just that little detective from Major Case, no not that one, the blonde one, you know, John Eames's daughter, Goren's partner? Yeah, her. That's pretty much the only way people know me. I'm mostly a novelty: the little detective who can still kick some bad guy ass (if I do say so myself). He's the brilliant one, that's why it's always "Goren and Eames", not the other way around.

We've been partners for…God, has it been 5 years already? For 5 whole years I've been sitting in the desk across from him, wishing it was me that put that big grin on his face. You know the one, that smile that means he's either made a major breakthrough in a case or just witnessed something he finds incredibly amusing. (Whether or not anyone agrees with the sentiment is another story.) I love that smile, how it completely changes his face. I love the way it just peels away the years and makes him look less like Goren the cynical, weathered veteran and more like Bobby the sweet, fun-loving man I fell in love with.

No. I have to stop thinking like that. We're partners, I can't let myself get emotionally involved. I wouldn't put our partnership or our friendship at risk for anything, no matter how much I may wish he would take off that tie and jacket…

I can't do this. How did I get myself into this mess? When did just leaning over my shoulder start to make me blush? How could I let myself feel like this?

Ugh. If I ever get my head on straight, I'll let you know.


	3. The Gospel According to Bobby

A/N: Well, here it is: the promised normal-length chapter. Well, it's still kinda short, butit seemed like a good place to break it off. Originally I was going to have them get drunk and then sleep together, but I decided that would be too anti-climactic (no dirty-minded pun intended) and might make it too angst-y later on. Plus, I didn't really like the idea of them bar-hopping the night away.

Also, I'll be visiting family out of town for Mother's Day, so there probably won't be a chapter 4 until mid-next week.

* * *

"Good one, Goren." She shook her head in a combination of pity and disbelief. "You, the walking encyclopedia, couldn't think of a better excuse than 'I have paperwork to do'? And you stammered, too!" She was teasing me again. I know she meant well, but still, it was embarrassing. 

"Shut up…" I grumbled back. "She's just trying to be friendly." Why was I defending her? "She wants to meet people, even if her methods are a little…unprofessional." _That's an understatement…_

She nearly choked on her coffee when she heard that one. "'Unprofessional'? That woman wouldn't know professional if it danced in front of her in a Dracula costume! And from the way she's been behaving, I'd say she's interested in a little more than friendship."

I just rolled my eyes. Eames was right, but women are so critical of each other. I like the way men handle their issues; we just take it out back, no messing around, one's the winner and that's it. We don't fight our own personal cold war like women do. As barbaric as it may sound, that's the way it is. It's much simpler like that.

As I looked at my partner, I realized just how very different she was from most women. Alex didn't do the whole gossipy/taking sides thing that some women do. She was real and that was refreshing. They just don't make 'em like her very often.

"Goren, you're staring again."

"Wha-…oh, sorry." _Damn it!_ I had to pay more attention to what I was doing. _Come on, Bobby, make up something quick…_ I blurted out the only decent excuse I could think of at the time. "Hey, since I don't really have paperwork to catch up on and a drink actually sounds kinda good, you wanna go somewhere after work with me?" _Did I really just say that?_ Oh well, it was too late now. "Anywhere except O'Halloran's is good with me."

She flashed me one of her breathtaking smiles. _Breathe, Bobby, breathe._ "Okay. But you're buying!" she replied. She was getting that enchanting shine in her eyes again…_look away…put those things away before someone gets hurt…_

"Then it's a date?" I asked. I regretted my choice of words almost immediately. _Idiot, don't force the idea on her! You'll scare her off!_

She raised her eyebrows at me. "Yeah, I guess so…" she said, sounding a little hesitant. Thankfully, she didn't seem too weirded out by my use of the word "date" and accepted it at face value. At least, she appeared to…

_

* * *

Later that day…_

The day was finally over. I was glad to be done; we hadn't had much field work to do today and I really needed to get away from my desk. Unfortunately, I had to wait for Lila to leave first.

At precisely 5:00, she sidled up to my desk and sat down just as she had that morning. "Are you sure you can't come, Bobby? I'd love to get to know you better outside of work." She was doing the doe-eyed thing again. That was gonna drive me nuts eventually. "Yeah, it's too bad. I wish I could go, but…" I gestured to the stacks of papers on my desk andwilled myself not tolaugh. "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Bye!" she replied. I hope I was hallucinating, but I thought I saw her wink before she finally got up off my desk and headed for the elevator.

As soon as the doors slid shut, I looked over at Eames, who was shaking with the effortof suppressingher laugh. As soon as we made eye contact, we both collapsed into laughter.

"She-she-she _winked_ at you!" she gasped, trying to regain her breath.

"I know! Do women actually think that acting all coy and flirtatious will get them a guy?" I said, almost as out of breath as she was.

"God, I hope not. Most women don't but there's always a few that give us a bad name." Her smile was back; I had to look down before I started staring again. "Come on, let's get out of here. I think it's safe now that she's gone."

I looked up into her eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see that all traces of her earlier hesitation were gone. She seemed totally at ease now that Fulton was gone. Seeing her like that made me feel good, like maybe I was doing something right if she felt that comfortable around me. Her happiness made me happy, and I felt a smile of my own lifting the corners of my mouth. I grabbed my coat, she got hers, and together we headed for the elevators.

* * *

"So, Don Juan, where are you taking me?" she asked once we were outside.

I smiled. "Well, I was thinking maybe we could go to dinner instead of just bar-hopping all night. I know this great little Italian place called Grimaldi's that's only a few blocks away," Isaid, hoping she couldn't hear the nervous tic in my voice. I was afraid she would get spooked if she thought I was moving in on her. In reality, I kind of _was_ moving in on her, but she wasn't supposed to know that. When you're subtly trying to get someone to love you, you don't make your intentions obvious. It just doesn't work that way.

She smiled back. "Ooh, dinner and drinks…are we going dancing too?" she asked teasingly. Her eyes twinkled in the fading light. _She's beautiful…_

"Sorry, me making a fool of myelf by attempting to dance was _not_ part of the deal," I repliedwith a chuckle. "I have to either do something worthy of blackmail or hurt you if you want to work that one in." I checked my watch. "Come on, let's get going. They have the best alfredo in town so they get busy pretty early. We should go if we want a table."

And with that, we got into my car and drove off.


	4. Johnny Be Good

A/N: This chapter came much faster than I thought it would. I wrote it last night and this morning and I have to say that I'm quite proud of it. The romance really starts tokick in instead of just sexual tension.

Also, "At Last" is a great song by Etta James which is also not mine. (You'll see what I mean.)

And seeing as I'm only 15 and have never ordered wine before, I probably messed up that part of the chapter.

P.S. To my lovely reviewers: I know Bobby can dance, but I felt that it fit the Bobby in this story better if he didn't think he could. I mean, would you like him as much if he went around bragging? Didn't think so. So even though it screwed up the continuity a little bit, I decided to give him a sort of sweet modesty/insecurity. (more of the boy-next-door thing)

* * *

"This place is…" I struggled to find the right words to describe the restaurant we had just entered. "…incredible." Grimaldi's was a small place, but it was beautiful. It had a few dozen small two-person tables complete with floor-length tablecloths and candles in the center. There was a jazz band playing on a stage with a parquet dance floor right in front of it. 

"Bobby!" a man called as he walked out of the kitchen. "What are you doing here? What am I saying, you came for the best authentic Italian food in town, of course!" He gave Bobby a hug. "And you brought this lovely lady with you too!" The man grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed my cheeks. "Uh, Alex, this is my friend Johnny Grimaldi. He's the owner and the head chef. Johnny, this is Alex Eames," Bobby said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you miss. I got this restaurant from my father after he died. My grandfather was the founder. I'm the owner and the chef and I make the best damn fettuccini alfredo in town, if I do say so myself!" he said. Feigning a whisper, he leaned in towards me. "Between you and me, it's good to see Bobby with a girl again. It's been far too long since he's had a lady to keep him in line!" I laughed and looked over at Bobby, who had a look somewhere between shocked and embarrassed. He looked down at his shoes and blushed feverishly.

_If he's going to play the shy card now, then fine!_ I thought. "Sorry, Johnny, but you're going to have to worry about him a little longer. We're just partners, we're not dating. No matter how much he may wish we were…" _Heh heh heh…_

Bobby's head snapped up at that. "I-I-I-…" he gaped. "Johnny! You started this! Stop giving her ideas!" His face started to go back to a normal tone. "Can we just get a table? I want some alfredo."

"Alright, alright, I'll seat you." Johnny grabbed two menus and walked us back through the restaurant. "But I'm giving you the secluded table in the back, the one we always give to loooverrrrs…" He drew out the word and rolled the R heavily.

"Johnny, I'm warning you…" Bobby began, but he sounded much more playful this time. "Fine, I'll behave," Grimaldi said. "I'll stop talking about your secret, hidden looovvveeee for each other." He wiggled his eyebrows at us and walked off.

As we sat down, I started laughing again. "Is there a sign on our backs that says, 'Please make strange and suggestive facial expressions at us'?" I asked jokingly. Bobby rolled his eyes and smiled. "Well, at least he didn't wink at me," he said. "That would have been a little more than I could handle." I looked away and tried not to concentrate on his smile. _God, I love your smile…_

A waiter approached our table. "Hi, I'm Heather and I'll be your server! Would you like to start with some wine or champagne?" she asked in her overly peppy and very practiced waitress voice. "Um, yeah, we'll have a bottle of red wine please," Bobby told her. "Okay, I'll get that for you!" she said and walked away. _I hate people who talk in exclamation points. They always sound like cheerleaders on ecstasy._ I smiled to myself.

"What's so funny?" Bobby asked. _Apparently not _enough_ to myself_.

"Oh, nothing…" I started. "I just love meeting your buddies."

He smiled again. _Don't blush…_ I willed myself. "Johnny's just…" He looked at the ceiling while he searched for the right word. "He has no self-consciousness. Or shame, for that matter."

Heather-the-cheerleader-on-X came back with our wine and glasses. "Here you go!" she said as she poured us each a glass. "Are you ready to order?" she asked as she pulled out her pad and a pen.

"Yeah, I'll have the fettuccini alfredo, please," I told her. "Great! And for you?" She turned to Bobby. "The same for me." he said and handed her our menus. "Great! I'll go put that in for you!" She gave us a huge fake smile and walked back to the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes. "If I ever act like that, please shoot me." He gave me another one of his wonderful smiles and chuckled. "No one's that happy all the time," he replied. _Oh, I don't know. Between 8 and 5 I'm pretty close…_

I took a drink of my wine. I was getting the feeling I'd be needing a lot of it tonight.

"Alex, while we're waiting for our food…would you like to dance with me?" he asked, startling me out my thoughts.

I smiled questioningly at him. "I thought I had to blackmail you if I wanted a dance," I said teasingly. "Well, you're my guest, so I'll give in and let you have your dance," he replied, flashing me a grin of his own. He took my hand and walked me towards the dance floor.

The band was just starting a new song. I recognized it as "At Last" almost immediately; it was one of my parents' favorite standards. Bobby put his hands around my waist and I slid mine around his neck. We swayed gently in time with the music while I tried to get my heart to start beating again. I leaned my head towards his shoulder, but I wasn't brave enough to rest it on him. I breathed in his smell. It was warm, something like rain with a hint of cinnamon, if you can imagine that. He smelled good; breathing in his essence was just as intoxicating as the wine. _This feels right._ I felt like nothing else mattered anymore, like everything would be right in the world if I could just stay in his arms for another moment…

I felt him suddenly stop. It took me a moment to realize that the song was over. I had been so entranced by the feel of his arms around me that I hadn't noticed anything else. I looked up into his eyes and saw the same look I imagined was in mine: a mixture of longing and questioning. Neither of us was quite sure what to do at that moment. We had just experienced something I can only call magical, and I don't think either of us wanted it to end.

We awkwardly stepped away from each other, smiling nervously. "I…I think our food's here," he said. "Yeah…" I replied and started back to our table.

That was it. The moment was over. It had been wonderful while it lasted, but now it had ended and an air of hesitation and tentativeness had settled over our table. I wanted those few minutes back more than anything right then, but there was nothing I could do. So I just ate my fettuccini.

And waited.


	5. At Last

A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back from my Mother's Day trip to Michigan and I was really anxious to write, so here it is: chapter 5, my attempt at writing romance. Like I said before, I'm only 15, so I haven't exactly had alot of romantic experience.

And for the park scene, just picture the street scene in _The Notebook_, except in NYC in the present instead of South Carolina in the '40s. If you haven't seen _The Notebook_, you should. It's a good movie.

* * *

An air of unease had settled over our table. I was confused; there were a million questions just hanging in the air that I knew I could never ask. To tell the truth, I was afraid; afraid that she was regretting the whole trip, that she hadn't felt what I just had. But most of all, I was absolutely terrified of rejection. I didn't want to ruin our partnership or our friendship, despite my more-than-friendly feelings for her. I could make myself forget how good it felt to hold her for those few minutes on the dance floor. I could get by, I always had. Trouble was, I didn't want to. 

On one hand, she had never said anything that hinted she felt something for me. On the other hand, her eyes had just told me more than words ever could. But what if I had misread her? Could I have misinterpreted the signs? _Wait, she's saying something…_

"I should probably go," she said weakly. "You know, with work tomorrow and everything…" She pulled a $20 bill out of her purse and stood up. "Thanks for taking me out."

"Wait!" I called after her as she started to walk away. "Don't go…" I may not have known much right then, but one thing was certain: I couldn't leave this hanging. I know me, I would chicken out and let things go back to normal. And then I would always wonder about what could have been and spend the rest of my life kicking myself for not holding onto her when I had the chance.

"I was thinking that maybe…we could go for a walk," I said, hoping she would come. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. Fortunately, she smiled back. "Okay," she said simply.

I left some money on the table and handed the twenty back to her. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

_

* * *

Central Park_

"I love coming here in the evening," I said. "It's so peaceful and calming."

"You always did seem like the type to find comfort in nature," she replied. I was glad to see her smile back again. Neither of us said anything else and we walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Suddenly I heard a soft buzzing noise. It took me a moment to realize that she was humming quietly to herself. It was the song we had just danced to, "At Last".

"You really like that song, don't you?" I asked her. "Wha-…oh," she smiled sheepishly. "It's one of my parents' favorite songs. I remember when I was a kid they would play it and dance in the living room when we kids were supposed to be in bed." Her eyes got a far-off look as she remembered. "I would sneak down to the top of the stairs to watch them and wonder why they looked so peaceful when they danced."

She stopped walking. Her arms came up around each other and she hugged herself and swayed. She closed her eyes and smiled nostalgically. I could tell she was thinking of her parents again, of the looks on their faces when they danced that must have resembled the one she now wore. She looked so beautiful there in the moonlight, dancing to a tune that only she could hear. Seeing her like that made me realize that I didn't want to fight it anymore. I was just going to have to stand still and let it catch me.

I stepped up to where she was standing, her back facing me. Slowly I slid my arms around her waist. She gave me a puzzled look over her shoulder, but then smiled and closed her eyes again. I felt her small warm body lean against me. I subconsciously started to hum the song again. She spun around in my arms and clasped her arms around my neck like she had at Grimaldi's. I replaced mine around her waist and pulled her softly into me. She cautiously laid her head on my shoulder and we danced together to music that no one else could hear.

I hummed the last few notes and went quiet, not sure what she wanted to do. "Don't stop…" she said quietly, her face still pressed against my jacket. "Don't ever stop…"

At that moment, I felt like staying in that park forever. Like the world could wait, let me just hold her a little while longer…

I started humming again, still holding her tightly. I let her go a little and spun her slowly around before pulling her back in to me. She smiled again. "Dip me, maestro," she said into my ear, and I obliged. She arched gracefully backward while I savored the feel of her hips in my hands. She pulled herself back up and replaced her head on my shoulder.

I bent down and kissed the top of her head. She looked up in surprise, but her eyes told me it was okay. I leaned in again, but this time I met her lips. I kissed her with all the feeling I'd been holding back since I met her. I kissed her without any reservations because the worst thing that could happen didn't matter anymore. My mind went blank and I thought of nothing but her, how she felt in my arms, how right it was to finally be able to show her how I felt.

She pulled back slowly and opened her eyes. They looked deeply into mine with a gaze that seemed like it could see right through me. She smiled, and her eyes smiled with her. "You don't know how long I've wanted you to do that," she said quietly. "I just wasn't brave enough to ask." She grabbed my hand from her waist and clutched in her own. I lifted my free hand to her face to wipe away the single tear that had settled on her cheek. She was beautiful, just standing there with me. I loved her more at that moment then I had ever loved anyone in my life. I wasn't letting her go, not now, not ever.

"Let's get out of here," I whispered into her ear. She nodded slowly. I reached down and took her hand, and together we left the park.


	6. The Morning After

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a littlebit longer- I've been battling a particularly nasty cold since Monday and was in afog until yesterday. I've been toying with the idea of making this the last chapter, but I haven't decided either way yet.

5/22 Edit: I decided not to add more chapters. See you at my next fic!

* * *

I woke up and sleepily checked the clock that was sitting on the nightstand. 3:24. Great. While I hovered between sleep and consciousness, I groggily wondered why I was dressed in just my bra and had an arm draped across my hip. Oh, right… I thought as memories of last night came creeping back. Everything after dinner was a little blurry. Some things I remembered distinctly: Bobby and I walking in the park, dancing in the park…kissing in the park.

Did we really do that? I remembered driving back to his apartment, holding his hand in the elevator, and…oh…so THAT was why I was half-naked in his bed. That explained a lot.

A wave of apprehension rushed through me. What if Bobby woke up and regretted it? What if he hadn't felt the same things that I had? What if he didn't want a relationship after all? What if…

I shivered at the possibilities. Through his sleep, he tightened his arm protectively around my waist. "Alex…love…you…" he muttered, still sleeping. I couldn't help it. At that, I melted. Even unconscious, he was adorable. I stopped worrying, because at that moment the worst that could happen didn't matter anymore. I had him, he had me, and that was all we needed. Our own personal Hallmark card of a relationship.

I snuggled into him again. It felt good to have his arms around me, so intimate and comforting. I stopped caring about what the morning would bring and let myself drift back to sleep.

* * *

_Later that morning_

When I woke up again, it was already light out. I smiled, but stopped when I realized his warmth was gone; he wasn't holding me anymore. I rolled over to see what was going on. I smiled in relief when I saw him sitting up in bed, fully dressed with his back against the headboard. "Bobby? What time is it?" I asked, not entirely awake yet. "Good morning to you too," he said with a teasing smile. "And it's 10:15 on the nose."

I sat bolt upright at that. "Oh my God, we have to get to work!" I nearly screamed. I simultaneously got out of bed and wrapped his sheets around my still-undressed body. "Why didn't you wake me? We're going to be in so much trouble…" I said, getting panicky. I hurriedly bent over to pick up my clothes from the floor. I stopped suddenly when I felt his big, strong hands on my waist. I immediately straightened up, still holding my bundle of clothes. He wrapped his arms around me again and pulled me into him. "Sshhhhh…" he whispered soothingly into my ear. "Calm down. Today's Saturday. We have the day off." He reached around me to pull the clothing out of my arms and dropped it back on the floor. I spun around to face him, just as I had in the park the night before. I melted into his arms, savoring his warmth against me. "You can stop freaking out about work. Although it was kind of entertaining…" I playfullypunched him in the stomach.

"That'll teach you to mess with me," I muttered into his t-shirt. It felt wonderful just to stand there and be held, like I was the only important thing to him. I looked up into his eyes and he looked down into mine. He kissed me again, softly and gently at first, but harder as it continued. I wanted that kiss to last forever. All too soon, I felt him pull away. "You should get dressed," he said, still looking into my eyes. He kissed my forehead and stepped back. "You go do whatever it is women do in the bathroom and I'll go make breakfast." He gave me one last quick kiss on the lips and left the room.

I smiled to myself. Even when he was being sentimental, he was still Bobby. I stepped into the bathroom that adjoined his bedroom and turned the water on for a shower.

Once I had sufficiently freshened up, I stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the hall to his dining/living room. He was just coming out of the kitchen and held a platter of pancakes, fruit, and bacon in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. He smiled and raised his eyebrows at the sight of me wearing one of his shirts. "Mine had alfredo sauce on the sleeve," I told him. Well, it was true. It did have a stain on it. Besides, I liked wearing his shirt. It was big and comfy.

He chuckled and shook his head. "If you say so…" Turning his attention back to the food, he said, "I've got pancakes, bacon, fresh fruit, and coffee here. I've got OJ and cereal if you want some of that too." As he set it all on the table, I looked at him and smiled. "Why are you doing all this for me?" I asked questioningly. I didn't mean to sound suspicious, I was just genuinely curious.

"Because I want to take care of you, Alex," he replied. He moved in towards me again. He kissed me softly and pulled me into a tight embrace. "Because I love you, Alex."

I looked up at him, a bit shocked. Saying that he loved me in his sleep was one thing, but now when he knew what he was doing was quite another. I looked up at him, half expecting him to give me one of those embarrassed retraction-apologies that guys do when they know they've said too much. But he was gazing assuredly into my eyes without a hint of regret. As anxious and unsure as I had been before, it all disappeared when I saw the look of pure sincerity in his eyes. "I love you too, Bobby," I finally responded, giving him my biggest smile yet.

I did love him, I really did. I had for as long as I'd known him. It struck me as oddly humorous that we'd each been repressing it for so long, each one of us sure that the other couldn't possibly feel the same. And now that I knew…it was like a weight was gone from my shoulders. I didn't have to hide it anymore. It felt wonderful and natural and everything else that love was supposed to be.

In the words of someone much smarter than me, "Love really is everything it's cracked up to be. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for."

And you know what? It is. It really is.

* * *

P.S. The quote is from Erica Jong, but I don't know specifically what book. 


End file.
